God’s Realm is like someone who scatters seed on the ground, then sleeps and rises night and day, while the seed sprouts and grows, no-one knows how. Luke 4:26-27
Have you witnessed the re-creative power of Nature?
Most of us, much of the time,
are so busy getting THERE
that we fail to realize we are already HERE.
In essence, prayer is no more or less than this:
a desire and determination,
to be HERE and no place else.
HERE is the stage
upon which the unfolding field of relationships—
God’s Realm— is set.
We see the light everywhere but where we are, and chase after what we think we lack, only to find humbly, it was with us all along. Mark Nepo
For sure, we each have a part to play,
for good or ill,
in the drama of our days.
Yet we are not
the author of this
eternally unspooling story.
And HERE is neither the beginning,
nor the end
of the journey.
HERE is another Artist at work—
Presence unbounded, wider in mind, wilder in heart—
on an immeasurable canvas.
Like seed grain, packed with possibility,
the Domain of Mercy germinates by its own power,
in its own good time.
We do not make the garden grow.
We awaken to it; tending to spontaneity that surfaces,
enjoying fruits that sprout of their own accord.
Though we do not make it happen,
we can choose
to dwell HERE, or not.
This weedy ground-of-being
will not be controlled or contained.
It is mystery; too broad for narrow minds, too deep for shallow hearts.
With what could we compare the Domain of the Divine? It is like a mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds; yet when sown, it grows into the greatest of all shrubs. Mark 4:30-32
Neither a territory, nor a State,
God’s Domain is an ever-new state of being—
in relationship with everything.
This encompassing horizon that recedes before us,
beckons the awakening
of consciousness and connection.
With ways and means far beyond us,
our Mysterious Maker
works around, sometimes through, and often despite us.
And those people and places
we overlook and undervalue
arrive laden with God-Realm potential.
For this is no trickle-down Reign from on high.
It is an eruption,
beneath our souls.
The lower we go,
the closer we come
to the humble seeds of possibility.
I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders. Henry David Thoreau
We cannot farm weeds.
They thrive in the wilds,
in outlands neglected.
they crack the hardest crust
to transform dereliction into diversity; a shelter for abundant life.
No life forms—from the rain-forests to phytoplankton
who give us this day our daily breath—
lie outside the cosmic sweep of creativity.
Perhaps we have no handle
on this Great Field
because it has no door.
May you take the path
that HERE opens,
and wildly scatter weedy seeds of forgiveness.
Find me on Facebook and Instagram: @InTheStormStill
Coming in November 2019, A New Book by Joe Grant